


let's start the countdown to feeling okay

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), happy quarantine nothing matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: “I fucking love Riverdale,” continues Vanessa, deadly serious. “I never miss an episode. So, as a good friendー”“Can we please go back to the twink collection part; I have some questionsー”“I am going to give you anextremelydetailed recap of everything that’s happened since 2026.” She holds up a hand. “Now hush and drink your iced coffee.”
Relationships: Newton Geiszler & Vanessa Gottlieb, Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	let's start the countdown to feeling okay

**Author's Note:**

> this has been an inside joke with the people who tolerate me for over a year now, and quarantine has lowered my inhibitions and increased my need for entertainment so much i'm actually posting it. stan donna sweet

When Newt looks up from glaring daggers at his “How to Crochet: an Easy and Fun Guide!” book and the mess of yarn currently tangled around his hands and hook, he expects to see one of the guards bringing in another indescribably bland meal, or Hermann hiding a smile at his (fucking earnest, you dick) efforts, or even Pentecost Jr. coming in with yet another stack of boring-ass legal documents for him to pretend to be able to read without dictation and/or Hermann, who also functions as such. What he does not expect to see is a woman he vaguely recognizes as the _other_ source of ninety percent of Hermann’s headaches (and thus his sworn rival), aka his ex-wife, aka Vanessa. This would be confusing and distressing, except for the fact that she is also holding two large iced coffees and a bag that says _Dunkin’_ , so Newt makes the decision right then and there that, if some of that is for him, he will treat her like the fucking savior of his sanity that she is.

“Hey bud,” she says in a voice that sounds totally out of place for a secret government military holding cell. “How’s life?”

Newt looks down at his “project”, then back at her, raising one eyebrow. “Great,” he says flatly. “I think I’m really getting the hang of crocheting.”

She snickers and transfers the tray of drinks to the hand holding the bag in an excellent three-plate-carry, typing in the access code with her free hand. The door in the glass wall separating them opens, and Newt shrinks back on pure instinct as she enters. She waves the hand dismissively.

“You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m not gonna taser you or anything.”

“Uh, I’m not worried about me,” he says, elbows pressed into his ribcage. “Are you, uhーare you sure you’re good to come in here?”

“Like I said, don’t worry,” she says, and pulls the chair out from his desk to sit down, placing the bag and the tray on the flat surface. “Hermann says you’re good. I believe him. Here.” She pulls the lightest-colored of the iced coffees out of the wedges and hands it to Newt, and he untangles his fingers from the yarn to accept it. “He told me your order.”

Newt takes a tentative sip, and nearly makes a _really_ innapropriate noise when the overwhelming taste of sugar hits his tongue. He feels like William Shakespeare eating a hot cheeto for the first time, except with an obscene amount of caramel and cream. An actual tear forms in the corner of his eye. “Holy shit. Oh my God. Holy shit.”

Vanessa beams. “Aw, now I know how Make a Wish feels. That’s sweet.” She laughs at her own joke, then pulls out some napkins and an apple crumb donut from the bag and hands it to him. “Lemme know when your brain boots back up.”

“Why did Hermann ever let you go?” he says blissfully, licking a glob of filling poking out from the hole.

“Truly, he was a total idiot for being gay. Massive brain worms.” She grabs her own coffee and gestures at Newt with it. “Although, technically you _can_ relate to that last bit.”

Newt pauses in his semi-rabid consumption of the donut to give her a look. “Are you calling the Precursors _brain worms_?”

She shrugs. “I saw the apartment photos. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Newt remembers the lights under the stairs and winces. “Yeah, okay, that’s a fair assessment.”

“Exactly.” She pulls out a strawberry frosted with sprinkles and takes a bite, crossing her legs at the knee. Newt takes another sip then pauses, thinking.

“So, uh. Not that I’m not _super_ appreciative of the breakfastー”

“You’re very welcome,” she says pleasedly.

“ーand I’m glad for the company, but, uh. Why exactly are you here? I think we only met each other once when you…” he frowns at the memory. “Threw a divorce shower?”

“I needed some new tupperware,” Vanessa says, as if that explains everything. Newt nods. 

“Okay. Right. But I didn’t really know if we were, uh. Friends?”

“Well I say we certainly are now,” she says, giving him a dazzling smile. “Especially if we’re going to be in-laws soon.”

Newt starts to return the expression, then freezes. “Wait, what?”

She stares at him like he’s a little slow. “Well I’m married to Karla, and she’s a Gottlieb, and you’re gonna get married to Hermann, and he’s also a Gottlieb, soー”

“No, no, I got that, I justー” He feels heat rise to his face. “You think Hermann and I are gonna get married?”

“I watched him make an honest-to-God pro-con spreadsheet for different kinds of engagement rings, so yeah, I’d say so,” she says teasingly, and winks. “But of course, I would _never_ divulge that information to _you_.”

Newt tries and fails to hide the grin spreading across his face. “Of course.” He clears his throat and takes a sip of his drink to stop from doing something stupid, like giggling. “Uh, but, uh: why you’re here?”

Vanessa uncrosses, then recrosses her legs, giving her nails a tap on the plastic cup. “Right. So as your new cool best friend, and you as a new addition to my time-honored following of the tradition of a lesbian’s twink collectionー”

“Wait, hold on, go back a few wordsー”

“I took the liberty of asking Hermann what kind of stuff you like, and he mentioned you used to force him to listen to what happened on the CW’s Riverdale.”

Newt feels his heart skip a beat. “Hermann talked about me? Why, what did he sayー?”

“I fucking love Riverdale,” continues Vanessa, deadly serious. “I never miss an episode. So, as a good friendー”

“Can we please go back to the twink collection part; I have some questionsー”

“I am going to give you an _extremely_ detailed recap of everything that’s happened since 2026.” She holds up a hand. “Now hush and drink your iced coffee.”

Newt debates the merits of asking for clarification onーwell, a lot of things in what she just said, but finds that the crushing loneliness and utter boredom of being in isolation all day wins out. He finishes off the last of the donut, crosses his legs on the bed, and settles in. “Yeah, okay. Why the fuck not.”

Vanessa grins. “Fantastic. Now, where we last left our… well, heroes is a bit of a strong word, Jughead was ‘dead’ at the hands of the Stonewall Stags, and Betty was Gone Girl-ing it with our unquestionable queen of camp, Donna Sweet.”

* * *

“Cheryl!” says Toni Topaz, her perfectly curled hair swaying about her soot and blood-smeared face. “I can’t believe you burned down Stonewall Prep with your mind to save Juggie!”

Cheryl Blossom uses the tip of one of her cherry-red nails to carefully correct a trail of stray cherry-red lipstick. “I guess a stone-cold heart and indomitable taste weren’t the only gifts that my dastardly mumsy imparted on me,” she says. She turns to take Toni’s face in her hands. “Oh pumpkin pie. Did those nasty Vivianne Warner wannabes hurt you?”

“No. But Cherry, how did you know you were a pyrokinetic?”

A haunted expression comes over Cheryl’s face, and she looks away, hauntedly. “I always knew,” she says. “It was something inside of me that I kept hidden for so long. But now, I’m as free as the twelve New York Times articles you’re allowed a month before they put up the paywall. There’s nothing stopping me anymore.”

“Oh, Cheryl,” says Toni, and gazes up at the roaring flames of Stonewall Prep, which are somehow still burning even in the torrential rain. Her and Cheryl’s hair and makeup are not affected by this whatsoever. “What are we gonna do about Betty and Donna? They could be anywhere by now.”

“We’ll find them. I don’t believe they’re dead. Not for a second.”

The camera pans out, then rises, soaring higher and higher above the slightly off-looking flames consuming the towers of Stonewall Prep and into the starry night sky covered in flickering sparks.

* * *

“So she could just… do that. The whole time,” says Newt. Vanessa nods.

“Yeah, it explained why she never got burned when she burned down the family home in season one. Or the old abandoned amusement park they found in season 8 that was haunted with ghost clowns.”

“Why ghost clowns?” Newt asks.

“Specifically? For the Joker parody they did when Jughead got possessed with the lead ghost clown and tried to execute Hiram Lodge via guillotine.”

Newt makes a face. “Please tell me they didn’t keep the Sondheim song.”

Vanessa’s face says everything. “Oh God,” says Newt, “they had Archie play it as a pop cover, didn’t they?”

“Well,” she says, “funny you should mention his music career.”

* * *

“You’re sure this will work?” asks Zara frantically. Archie Andrews, senior football star at Riverdale High and struggling to choose between Harvard and Yale, despite literally not being able to read, nods firmly.

“Yeah. I got this.” He slings his guitar further over his shoulder as they reach the end of the spaceship’s hall, standing in front of a tall, looming metal door. Turning to Zara, he gives her a grateful look. “Thanks, Zara, for believing in me. For believing in humanity. I never thought I’d find someone more different than me than the Southside Serpents, but here I am.” He smiles charmingly, but in a way that clearly tells us that he doesn’t know how charming it is. “You’d make one hell of a Bulldog.”

She puts a hand on his arm and smiles back, her extremely long eyelashes fluttering shyly. “Thank _you_ , Archie. What you’ve taught me… what you’ve shown me I can feel…” She hesitates, then seeming to hold back no longer, pulls him into a passionate kiss. He grabs her by the small of her back and returns it, apparently showing no guilt over kissing a person who is not his girlfriend, famed speakeasy owner and girlboss mob boss Veronica Lodge. 

They break apart, and after gazing into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer, Archie turns towards the door, and steels himself. “Right,” he says. “Time to save the world.”

He pushes the door open and steps into the throne room of the Gdbfjksdjfg Empire, pulling his guitar across his chest and strumming a chord that echoes throughout the packed space. The leader, Gorb, turns and looks at him with disdain.

“Zara?” he asks. “Daughter. Why have you brought the prisoner into our most hallowed of halls?”

“You’re hashtag canceled, father!” she says defiantly. “And Archie challenges you for the fate of planet Earth in our traditional fashion!” 

Archie strums the opening chords of _I’ll Try_ and stands tall in the flattering blue light cast upon him. He pushes his shoulders back and, before launching into the tune, completes Zara’s decree: “With a song.”

* * *

“Are you honest to God fucking with me?” Newt asks, iced coffee now a fourth water as he stares at Vanessa in shock. “They sent him to _space_?”

Vanessa shrugs. “I guess they ran out of people in Riverdale for him to have sex with, and the Garchie longcon is still going, so: space.”

“Space,” he echoes, as always in awe of how the show manages to be weirder than his actual real life. “Goddamn. They win an Emmy for that season?”

“No,” she snorts. “Hollywood wouldn’t recognize real camp if it beat them over the head with a rhinestone baseball bat. I mean, they snubbed _Cats 2019_.”

“I only watched that movie once while drunk,” says Newt. “Did the catnip orgy actually happen, or was it just me?”

“No, it did. Taylor Swift started it.”

Newt presses his lips together very, very hard and looks down. “Okay. Good for her. So, Archie solves an intergalactic conflict with music. Seems about right.”

“Seems about right!” she says, clapping her hands together. “Oh, also they do their own production of _Cats_.”

“And keep the orgy?”

Vanessa nods, grinning. “Absolutely.”

* * *

_The following episode of Riverdale currently exists only on the CW’s streaming service, as it was pulled from television for reasons including, but not limited to: distressing material, strong sexual content, graphic drug use, inciting riots, a direct link to the assasination of two (2) U.S. Senators, and copyright infringement. Viewer discretion is advised._

* * *

Newt sighs, spinning the now empty plastic cup between his hands, ice cube slivers rattling about inside. “I can’t fucking believe I missed all that. What do you even do when that shit actually shows up on your TV screen?”

Vanessa holds out the bag for him to drop the trash into, and shrugs. “I actually ended up watching it with Hermann, while you were out.” She smiles. “I think you Stockholm Syndrom-ed him into tolerating it.”

Newt snickers. “God, I can’t wait to actually watch his face again at some of the lines.” Then, his expression sobers. “I really missed that. Everything like that, actually. Like, I feel like the first thing I _should_ do when I get out of here is, I dunno, run down to the beach and start crying and reevaluate my purpose in life, but…” he pauses. “Honestly? I really just wanna go to the roof of Hermann’s apartment with him, and get a bazillion blankets, and watch a movie on a laptop.”

“Pinterest-y,” Vanessa says, but her smile is genuine. “When you’re up for other people, though, let me know. Karla got us a crockpot, and we’d love to have you over.”

Newt nods, and picks up the yarn to begin fidgeting with it again, which Vanessa takes as her cue to duck out. “Thanks,” he says. “See you whenever they decide to unlock my fuckin’ kennel.”

“Eh. Could be sooner than you think.”

She shuts the glass door behind her and exits through the second, stepping outside and turning to the guard on post. “Hi there,” she says; big, friendly smile not reaching her eyes. “Enjoy the recap?”

“Ma’amー” he begins, but Vanessa holds up a hand.

“Uh uh, don’t evenーI know you all listen in. Don’t try that shit with me.” She is still smiling, and the guard begins to look slightly uncomfortable. “Now. Be real honest. I don’t know about you, but that didn’t sound like a man who’s a danger to himself and others, hm?”

She gives his chest a light tap, and blinks exactly once. He flinches. “Uh. No?”

“Well then!” says Vanessa cheerfully, and she can tell by the guard’s gaze that he is suddenly aware of just how much taller she is. “I guess I’ll be expecting him on Sunday for brunch, yeah? Since there isn't a single, logical, _legal_ reason to continue detaining a prisoner of war under no actual guilt.” She pats the comms on his vest a little harder than necessary. “I would hate to go out tomorrow and buy more eggs than I actually need. That would make me, and Dr. Gottlieb, very very angry. Do _you_ want him to be angry?”

The guard’s face is signifianctly whiter than it was when Vanessa first spoke. “Absolutely not.”

“Great!” she says, beaming. “Glad we could have this chat. I’m so glad.”

Without waiting for an answer, she starts off down the corridor, tapping out a message to Hermann with one hand. _get the bedroom ready. ur bf’s getting the all clear by tomorrow or u and i commit treason. idc which one._

She moves to put her phone in her pocket, but it vibrates almost immediately. The response digs a bright laugh from her that echoes back down the hall. _Neither do I._


End file.
